


don't let me drown

by ElainaFairchild



Series: Playlist Muses [2]
Category: Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, ignoring everything else bc it wasnt as good, set after issue 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27518869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElainaFairchild/pseuds/ElainaFairchild
Summary: Peter and Wade meet up again not so long after Spidey swung off into the sunset.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: Playlist Muses [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011270
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	don't let me drown

**Author's Note:**

> listened to "Way Back Home" by Krys Talk and Cole Sipe for so long my brain went numb and when I woke up this existed  
> also it doesn't really have to be read as pre-slash but thats how I wrote it

Peter sat on the edge of a rooftop, idly swinging his legs and watching the occasional pedestrian disappear and reappear below his feet. There weren’t many people out, which was fair, considering it was sometime in the wee hours of the morning in the middle of November. Peter was going to have to get up soon, or risk freezing his balls off through the thin spandex of his suit. Down on the street below, a hint of red in his periphery drew his eye, and he snapped his head toward the figure intently, but as it turned out, it was just a man in a red coat.

It had been three months since Peter had last seen or heard from Deadpool. Strangely enough, he hadn’t even heard anything about what the merc had been up to lately—and in Peter’s experience, ‘no news’ did _not_ equal ‘good news’.

Sure, they had parted ways as… friends, after a fashion. Wade had sacrificed himself to save Peter’s _soul_ , and that wasn’t something he could just ignore or forget. But neither could he forget Wade’s awkward parting words as Peter swung off into the sunset. He hated to admit it, but he had known that Wade would never call him, and for some reason, he had been all too willing to just leave it at that.

Now, months later, he knew that he had made a mistake. He should have reached out to Wade, made an effort to keep the other man on the path he had allowed Peter to set him on—but Peter hadn’t, and now there was this awkward, empty space hanging accusingly over his shoulder and reminding him every time he went on patrol that, once upon a time, he’d had a partner.

Theirs wasn’t the most auspicious start, but toward the end there—just before Itsy Bitsy had to go and screw it all up, and right after Wade had heroically saved the day—Peter had thought they really might have had something. Something he hadn’t realized that he wanted to keep—until it was probably too late, of course, because wasn’t that the way it always went? Peter had seen a side of Wade that he hadn’t expected, and now that the (ex?) mercenary had seemingly vanished off the face of the earth, Peter was realizing that he wanted Wade to be a more permanent fixture in his life.

Which was really the heart of the issue, here.

Peter fiddled with the cell phone in his hand, turning it over and over without really seeing it, too lost in his own thoughts. He’d felt it like a lead weight in his pocket all night, and when he had finally grown tired of denying all of the reasons why the phone seemed so important all of a sudden, he had decided to find a place to sit down and think. He had to weigh his options carefully, you see.

He could call Wade…

…or he could _not_ call him.

It was a simple choice, really—except for all of the ways that it wasn’t simple at all.

He didn’t really know why tonight, of all nights, his brain had chosen to make this into such a huge issue. He also didn’t know why he couldn’t just dial the number—Wade probably wouldn’t even answer. He could hang up without leaving a message and it would be like it never happened.

_But you would remember that you called him_ , whispered his own traitorous mental voice. _You would remember that he didn’t pick up—you would remember that he rejected you._

“Shut up,” Peter said quietly to himself.

“Hey now, I’m pretty sure I’ve got the monopoly on talking to yourself.”

Peter startled, nearly jumping out of his skin, and he knew he must be dangerously distracted if he hadn’t noticed someone else on the roof with him. It took a second to clear the fog from his head, but when he did, he gaped up at the figure looming over him.

“Deadpool?” he asked, baffled.

“Last I checked, yeah,” he replied, looking down and patting at his chest and arms as if to make sure.

“I was just about to…” Peter trailed off weakly, gesturing to the cell phone in his hand. Deadpool sat down on the roof’s edge a few feet away from him, holding a katana in his lap and swinging his legs with all the manic energy of a child.

“Aww, you were thinking about me?” he cooed. “How sweet! And what a coinkydink—me showing up just as you were thinking about calling me. Leave it to fanfic, am I right?”

Peter’s brow furrowed under the mask. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing, Webs; I’m just giving the readers a little wink-wink-nudge-nudge—they go nuts for that.”

Peter decided that his life would be simpler if he just let that comment slide. “What are you doing here, Wade? Have you been following me?”

“Just a little light stalking,” Wade said casually, and Peter elected not to think about what it meant that he wasn’t even concerned. “Had to make sure my favorite Super was still in one piece. I don’t know how you’ve managed without me.”

“It’s been real tough,” he deadpanned, but his heart wasn’t in it, and he could tell that _Wade_ could tell. “What about you? How have you been since you…? _Where_ have you been?”

“Here and there,” Wade deflected with a shrug. “And I am peachy-keen, Spider-dude. You know you don’t have to worry about li’l ol’ me.”

“But I do,” Peter blurted, grateful that his mask hid the flush blooming in his cheeks. “Worry about you, that is.”

“That’s nice,” he said, in the same bland, falsely chipper tone that people use when they’re accepting compliments they don’t agree with.

“Are you really OK, Wade? You know that you can talk to me, don’t you?”

Wade snorted. “Yeah? What was supposed to give me that impression? The way you ditched me like a bad date, with nothing more than a hug and a ‘call me sometime’? Or the way you refused to listen to me when I _begged_ you to find another way to beat Bitsy?”

“Wade—” Peter began, cringing internally at the note of pleading in his own voice and shifting a little under the sudden weight of guilt. Deadpool spoke before he could continue.

“Don’t ‘Wade’ me—what’s done is done; all I’m saying is don’t expect a heart-to-heart from me.”

They were quiet for a few tense moments after that. Wade frowned at his feet, which had gone still where they hung over the side of the building. Peter squirmed a bit, trying to think of anything to say that wouldn’t sound like an excuse. After a few long minutes, he gave up the endeavor with a soft sigh, drawing Wade’s attention.

“I’ve missed you,” he said quietly.

Wade’s eyes—or rather, the eyes of his mask—widened in surprise. “What was that, sweetums? I don’t think I heard you properly.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but spoke again, louder this time. “I’ve missed you, Wade. I want us to be…friends again. Partners.”

Wade hummed, and Peter could practically hear the man smirking behind his mask. “It sounds so dirty when _you_ say it, Spidey.”

Peter rolled his eyes again. “That’s just your dirty mind.”

After another moment of quiet, more peaceful this time, Peter shifted, angling his body to face the man beside him.

“I’m serious, Wade. I think we should stick together from now on.”

Wade laughed softly. “You and me against the world, huh?”

“Exactly,” Peter said firmly. He scooted closer and offered his right hand to the man. “What do you say?”

Wade stared at him for a few seconds, and Peter could almost see the gears turning in the other man’s head, but eventually Wade took the proffered hand in his own, nodding slightly as they shook on it. Their hands were still clasped when Peter, feeling bold, leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the other man’s cheek, right around where he assumed the corner of Wade’s mouth was. The layers of fabric separating their skin dulled the sensation, but Peter figured that his intent was pretty clear.

Wade retracted his hand, lightly pressing his gloved fingers to the spot Peter had kissed, clearly surprised. He turned his head to meet Peter’s eyes. “Did you just—?”

“Partners,” Peter said firmly, cutting him off.

Wade blinked behind his mask. “Yeah, OK,” he said, sounding a little dazed. “Partners.”


End file.
